Complications
by RockerChick08
Summary: Sometimes he can't stand living with her. But he'd lose his mind if she were to ever leave him... A post season 6 Bamon drabble. Because we need more of them...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Taking a brief break from the screenplay writing, because Lord knows I'VE been needing to read some post s6 bamon goodness, so I'm sure you guys have as well! Please enjoy.**

Complications.

 _Sometimes he couldn't stand the sight of her..._

 _– Never overtly consciously! But always something lingering in the back of his mind. Like the bitter aftertaste of garlic or onion. It would pinch, poke and prod at him. Until he ripped into her..._

 _But then she'd disappear._

 _Or rather cause him to disappear... He would become virtually invisible in her sight. It was almost worst than the 13 times she'd stormed out on him. She'd stay right in plain view of his icy blues, moving about him in the Manor like he was a complete non-factor non existent..._

"Ooh! This is a good one!" Damon swoops into the living room, buoyant gaze trained on the lit television, with a large bowl of popcorn in hand.

He feels the tension pulsating off of Bonnie in tidal waves, even before he sits next to her on the sofa. All the way at the opposite end, mind you. But still, it's the closest they've been in days...

The first words she speaks to him in days?

"I'm pretty sure there's a TV in your bedroom."

"Yeah." he grants, but makes no move to unglue his eyes from the episode of "Scooby Doo Where Are You." He relaxes further into the couch, breezily placing the bowl of popcorn between them like an easy peace offering.

She's emerging the sofa the next instant.

"Bonnie."

Her name is gruff on his lips, like bile and parental reprimandings. His hand around her wrist is gentle and full of things unspoken.

He wants to tell her to stop being so childish, but that will only prolong his invisibility, and this isn't 1994. This isn't Bonnie and Damon slowly beginning to care for one another. They are far beyond that point, and just as she's unable to keep with the pretenses of leaving the Manor altogether, he is unable to prolong their argument with insultingly thoughtless apologies, because he needs her.

Almost to a disturbing degree.

Adding a slight pressure to his hold on the enchantress's arm, Damon pulls her forward until she is again seated on the couch. And she allows it, because also unlike 1994 – or maybe just like 1994 - or even before 1994... sometimes he doesn't need to speak for her to know exactly what he's communicating.

He playfully nudges her sock covered feet a couple of times, from their spot next to his on the coffee table.

She tucks them beneath her on the sofa.

She's still angry.

But he's just happy to be near her...

Her eyes remain fixated on the television. His eyes fixate on her, greedily drinking in.

Her caramel skin, glowing in the darkness of the room... her wavy brown hair... her striking green eyes... her embarrassing Spongebob PJs...

"Can I have my face back?"

"Can I have my best friend back?"

...

"Highly unlikely. This _best friend_ doesn't particularly enjoy the company of insufferable assholes."

They're off the couch and standing, before either of them can register. His arms wound tightly around her. All stubborn, judgmental, headstrong, and moral strong 124 pounds of her...

"Get off of me!"

"Just! Give me a minute!"

The hold on her waist coils like a python, bringing her yet even closer to his chiseled immortality.

"No! Get off!"

"I just need..."

He burrows his face into her curls, inhaling deeply.

"Damon... Salvatore. If you don't let go of me –

"I'm sorry!"

It's almost dizzying the way the witch immediately relaxes into his clutch at the sound of the breathy exhalation. All soft curves, warm contours, and heady cherry blossom scent... Why does she affect him so powerfully? When did he begin to affect her so prevalent?

"I miss you, Bon Bon..."

He hates himself for the sob that escapes her lips the following instant. Yet he's too much of a selfish bastard to stop the following dictation.

"Look at me."

Need. Damon knows she's felt it as well, these past couple of days, because he knows her like the back of his hand, and equally requires her as much as the appendage.

The vampire moves slightly back from her. Bonnie's shimmery green eyes meet his azure. The serene exhalation at once pummels from his useless lungs, breathlessly.

 _Sometimes he can't stand the sight of her. She's the constant reminder of the one missing in his life... But let her leave his vision, or withhold the weight of those emerald green eyes upon him, for more than a single torturous day, and..._

Complications.

 **Author's Note: I would LOVE to continue this, following up with at least TWO more chapters, but I don't know if I'll have the time! If you guys enjoyed this however, I will try my best! In the meantime, if you haven't read it yet, please check out my baby, "Bamon!" It's a fic really near and dear to my heart, and one I will be FINALLY completing before the airing of season 7! Please read, review, support, and enjoy in the ending of this journey with me! God bless!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Thank you so much for your reviews and interest in this story! I hope this new installment does not disappoint. Enjoy!**

 **Complications.**

Chapter 2

 _As much as he is a bourbon man, he is a man of impulse. Notoriously and unapologetically._

 _Which is why he is very perturbed when his thoughts begin gradually taking on a more artful and calculative air..._

 _He is downright disturbed when his musings begin to linger on the future, – because even more than his lack of strategy and procedure, he is not proactive. He is much too busy living it up in the here and now, to spare any pondering on the days ahead._

 _Lately it's all he can think about._

 _About her._

 _About a heretic biting her – kidnapping her... her getting into a car accident, – catching a common cold!_

 _What medicine would he buy? What would he do? Who would he kill?! He has to plan it just right, because should his hasty actions harm their friends, she'll kill him..._

Ironically enough, Damon's the one who ends up kidnapped and injured.

After weeks of worrying and meticulous devising, he's the one tossed and left in an alleyway like trash, after Lily and her BeBe kids pump him full of vervain, sifting his mind for the location of the Phoenix stone.

He's pissed off, dog tired, ego wounded, and of course she's the one who comes for him.

Bonnie Bennett, with her green eyes fierce with determination and worry. Stifling intense worry, for him. – And when did he become one of the people she would look at in such a way?!

"Damon! Oh my God! What did they do to you?!"

She's in front of him so quickly, in his weakened delirium he wonders if she's been turned.

She falls to her knees, one caramel hand caressing his cheek, while the other brands his forehead, before entering his chestnut hair.

He blinks rapidly and aimlessly through the drugged mess of his mind, struggling to focus on and memorize every aspect her potent glare. He abruptly wonders if he longed for it. Subconsciously, all those years ago when she hated him, and he posed dances, second chances, and truces, perhaps all for the yearning to have such passionate loyalty on his side...

Her gentle touches, new and slightly overwhelming, drown him delightfully with their tenderness and deliciously proximal scent of cherry blossom, coaxing his eyes to involuntary closing.

"Shit!"

The expletive skyrockets the vampire's attention back to mossy orbs that impossibly grow with despair, darting over him. He didn't think he looked so bad, but her reaction makes him feel like death warmed over...

His insecurities are but for a moment however, as his gaze widens, spontaneously concentrating almost obsessively on each striking feature of the woman – and was she always this magnificently beautiful?

Glassy ceruleans roll to the back of Damon's head, as he battles to keep pace with her sudden and hasty movements.

Bonnie grits her teeth, searching the alley for something she apparently comes short of, as she growls in aggravation, before swiftly thrusting her right arm before him.

"Bite me, Damon."

Time surely ceases to move.

A thousand warning bells sound off in the vampire's head, but adversely dual as musical accompaniment to the Hallelujah chorus.

"No."

He slowly shakes his head from side to side, somehow able to maintain reason through the hysteria.

All of his planning...

Here he's been fearing her catching a cold, getting into a car accident, getting kidnapped, getting bitten! And here she is **asking him to bite her!**

"Damon."

The air becomes sharply cogent... more severe.

The witch's mouth fixes into that stern line, he's seen way too many times to know there is no argument against.

"You are chalk full of so much vervain, you look like a roofy victim." her wrist presses earnestly against his dry lips, jade eyes burning into him with equal persistence. "Drink. Now."

Elongated fangs gently glide into the toffee joint.

Damon barely even registers what's going on. He's too weak to bicker. He's too hungry to care.

And he's notoriously impulsive...

Sweet honey, cinnamon, ambrosial euphoria slides effortlessly down his throat. – Slowly returning pallor and strength to his body - detonating outlandish and disturbing reveries to his mind - before finally... recovering reason.

When he swiftly breaks away from her, with one final lick to her skin, he is left sick to his stomach by what he's done. What he's taken from her... for the second time with his bite.

Something very distinct is changed between them. Or perhaps the burried is only unearthed from it's recesses...

"I am so sorry, Bon Bon."

She cuddles her arm, unusually avoiding his gaze, he knows, though he avoids her's with equal vehemence.

"Don't be. I offered, remember? …You get enough?"

Her soft words spark a deep and sudden guilt. He's ingested far more than needed.

"Yeah."

A long groan from the depths of the alley, abruptly ends the awkwardness between the duo, alerting and reminding them they are not alone.

"Oh no! Stefan!"

Moving purposefully to head for the other victim of the night, Bonnie is suddenly halted by a firm hand catching around her fingertips.

"I'll run and get him some blood bags from the hospital."

The witch frowns confused.

Damon's icy blues widen with electric robust intent and impatience.

"If you need an explanation, you have no idea how good you taste." he swiftly bites out, startlingly worked up, – far too much to notice the look of surprise his brazen confession inspires in his friend. "Don't offer yourself to just anyone."

Bonnie ducks her head at the order. Uncharacteristically bashful she chews into her bottom lip, before returning her gaze to her counterpart's with trademark tenacity and zest.

"It's Stefan -

"That's mine."

Hold readjusting around her wrist, Damon's warm fingers caress over his bite mark, before the index ventures meaningfully further down along the vein in her arm.

"C'mon. Let's get you both some blood bags." Bonnie chuckles slightly, unsure of what to make of the possessive words, and the cold sober glint in the vampire's eyes. She swallows deeply, rising from the ground, and waiting for him to follow. "I think all that vervain's still got you a little out of it..."

 _Lately it's all he can think about._

 _About her._

 _He's constantly concerned about her safety. Devising ways to keep her from harm..._

 _Only how does he strategize protection from himself, when he suddenly yearns to harm her so delectably fervent?_

Complications.

 **Author's note: Thank God for this! It's been on my mind for quite some time, but quite difficult to write, as I am rarely satisfied with anything I produce lately. :/ So by all means, if you weren't repulsed by this, PLEASE leave a review and let me know as much! They truly are more powerful and inspiring than you realize!** **Thanks again so much for reading, and God bless.**


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